


untitled.

by noljagolcha (daelighthwi)



Category: Golden Child (Korea Band)
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-20
Updated: 2018-03-20
Packaged: 2019-04-04 23:28:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14031186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daelighthwi/pseuds/noljagolcha
Summary: based on this tweet: https://twitter.com/golchasgirl/status/975724093411594241?s=21





	untitled.

_This isn’t my fault_.

 

Donghyun’s hands are latched onto the steering wheel so tightly, his knuckles have gone white and there are crescent moons in the leather where his nails pressed heavily against the worn rubber grips.

Almost as if in a nightmare he cannot wake up from, he unbuckles his seatbelt, watching it slide back into place. Then, slowly, cautiously— he eases himself out of the car to survey the damage.

 

_This isn’t my fault._

 

His hands fly to his mouth in horror as he shakes his head slowly, unable to believe the gory sight before his eyes.

The bicycle is a mangled wreck from where it was crushed under his front wheel, the metal twisted from the sheer brunt of the impact.

 

_This isn’t my fault._

 

Where there is a bicycle, there is a rider. But where is this one?

Donghyun’s eyes scan the periphery, seeing but barely registering until his eyes fall onto a splash of sticky crimson against the black asphalt.

There is a sharp intake of breath as he falls backwards, scrambling for his car keys, the gravity of the situation- _what he’s done_ \- finally sinking in.

 

_This isn’t my fault. This isn’t my fault. This isn’t my fault. This isn’t my fault—_

 

The words that he’s been endlessly repeating like a mantra in his head eventually bubble out of his throat, starting as small whimpers until they escalate into shouts, each ragged breath he draws in a reminder of the life he’s just taken.

It is too late to turn back now. The image of the boy, who cannot be older than he is, lying prone in a rapidly-spreading pool of his own blood, is permanently burned into the back of his eyelids.

Unable to take it anymore, he leans over the side of the seat and vomits, his stomach contents gushing out of his throat onto the road. But even still, the unsettling feeling deep down inside doesn’t go away.

Donghyun trembles, not knowing what exactly to do. He’ll go to jail for this. He’ll _die_ for this.

He picks up his keys with renewed vigour, plugging them into the ignition with the strength of a crazed man. He _cannot_ die for this.

With his heart in his throat and his conscience on the road, Donghyun drives away, back home where his friends await, clueless to whatever crime he’s just committed.

 

Donghyun is eating a simple breakfast of cereal and milk, flipping through the channels on the television, when he stops on one particular one.

_“... an accident on the expressway leading from Gyeonggido to Seoul… No witnesses were present at the scene at the time… The victim was dead on arrival, the official time of death is estimated to be 2.30pm…”_

He chokes on his cereal, spoon clattering noisily into his bowl and splashing milk everywhere. The tremors start again, from his head to his toes, as the panic overtakes all his senses until it is all he can feel.

Yet, his eyes remain glued on the television, unable to look away as they begin describing the profile of the unfortunate boy who went biking at the wrong time and the wrong place.

The name _Hong Joochan_ barely registers in his mind, the cheery picture of the brunette on the screen a stark contrast to the bloodied mop of blonde hair on the road just yesterday.

Guilt swims in his mind but Donghyun squeezes his eyes shut, forcing the unwanted emotion down, down, down, where he can’t feel it anymore.

He rolls his shoulders and continues eating his cereal absentmindedly, trying his best to ignore the television broadcast.

“Donghyun, you okay?” His flatmate, Jangjun asks, scanning him briefly from head to toe.

Numbly, he nods. “Y-yeah, I’m f-fine.” He hates the way his voice shakes as he offers Jangjun a lame reply that lacks the conviction it should have.

Jangjun gives him another look. “You’re eating your cereal with your hands.”

“I am?” His hands are covered with milk from where they’re dipped into his bowl, and he goes to dunk his hands under running water to wash them clean with a sigh.

They come away bright red, sticky blood clinging to his fingers like a vice; no matter how hard he scrubs, they don’t seem to come off—

 

Then, Donghyun blinks, and the illusion is gone.

He’s hyperaware of Jangjun’s questioning stare lingering on his back, so he steels himself, plastering a weak smile on his face. “I’m going to my room.”

It comes out as barely a whisper, so light that it could be drowned out by the reporter’s monotone voice in the background, but Jangjun appears to have heard him since he nods once, twice and tilts his head slightly at his room.

Jangjun hesitates, then settles for a bland _get well soon_. Donghyun nods, and ducks quickly into his room, away from the cruel reminders and the guilt that threatens to spill over in a flood that he knows he will drown in.

As he passes by the mirror leaning against the wall, he sighs; his skin has taken on a sickly pallor, all pasty and dull under the sunlight that streams in from the open window nearby. He really needs to sleep this off, before his anxiety takes over and drives him crazy.

He drags his feet to the bed, muttering under his breath all the while like a madman, then stops heavily in his tracks.

The underwater feeling is back, things sounding strangely echo-y as he stares at the blonde sitting on his bed, swinging his legs happily. He faces away from him, humming a merry tune under his breath that sounds hauntingly familiar to Donghyun, but distorted in all the wrong ways.

“W-who are you?”

The fear coursing through his veins like molten lava causes his mouth to run impossibly dry as the boy sitting on his bed turns leisurely to smile at him, the features blurring as Donghyun’s eyes fill with tears of fear and he scrambles backwards, back hitting the wall on the other end.

Hong Joochan’s smile is saccharine sweet as he hops down from the bed, moving across the tiled floor silently. Donghyun’s mouth gapes, chest heaving with shuddering gasps as he presses himself closer to the wall, willing the boy not to come any closer with all of his might.

“Don’t you remember me?” Joochan’s voice is lilting, words flowing smoothly as he crouches down in front of a shivering Donghyun. “It’s only been a day.”

Donghyun’s eyes flit around wildly, trying to look anywhere else than the dead boy directly in front of him and his blood runs ice-cold as he notices that where the light shines upon Joochan’s back, no shadows form where they rightly should.

HIs mouth opens in a silent scream, trying to yell for anyone, _anyone_ to save him but an overwhelming pressure exerts itself on his voicebox as Joochan tuts. “No calling for help yet, Donghyun, I’m not quite done talking to you.”

“You left me there to die,” he hisses, voice dangerously soft, “I looked up at the stars last night, choking on the blood that wouldn’t stop flowing and wished for a way to get my revenge. Because when you took my life, you took everything from me.”

“I d-didn’t mean to!” Donghyun chokes out, “I’m sorry—”

“ _Sorry_ doesn’t bring me back to life!” Joochan spits contemptuously, pressing down harder on Donghyun’s throat, and having finally found his voice, Donghyun begins screaming loud enough to wake the dead.

He screams and screams until his throat is rubbed raw and his voice is hoarse, the scream not breaking even as Jangjun rushes into the room and shakes him violently, trying to snap him out of his dream.

 

 

“Donghyun!” Jangjun’s voice finally breaks through the fog clouding his senses and he blinks blearily up at him, unable to come back to his senses. “It was just a nightmare, wake up!”

With his help, Donghyun manages to sit up on the bed, shaking uncontrollably as Jangjun wordlessly hands him a glass of water.

Somehow, he’s moved from the wall opposite the bed to the bed itself and he can see the teartracks on his pillow where his tears soaked into the fabric.

“It was just a bad dream,” Jangjun comforts, rubbing circles into his back.

Donghyun hiccups, eyes roaming the room as he tries to regain his composure and his heart skips a beat as he stares into the mirror, catching Joochan in its reflection, bloodied and bruised, draping an arm with an open wound so deep he can see the pure white of the bone around Jangjun's shoulder.

"He's right there," Donghyun croaks, clutching onto his arms until red marks form against his porcelain skin. "He's clinging to you, Jangjun hyung, you have to move—" 

"There's nothing there," comes the steadfast, reassuring reply, "There's no one here but you and me." Jangjun pats his back again.

But Donghyun is barely listening, bright eyes fixed on the mirror, watching his own reflection.

Joochan presses a finger to his lips and winks, the action in itself reopening a barely-healed cut above his eyebrow, staining the skin around it a bright carmine. " _Watch out_ , _"_  he mouths, a sinister smile tugging at the corner of his lips. In the blink of an eye, he's gone, leaving red splotches on the floor where he once stood.

The mirror shatters, a thousand sharp fragments of glittering glass flying everywhere— a perilous premonition of the hell that's only just begun. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> many thanks to rei who let me write this!


End file.
